For You Are The Sun (Part 5)
Title: For You Are The Sun (Part 5)
Pairing: Santana/Brittany
Rating: R (for this chapter)
Summary: AU. Based on Romeo and Juliet. For Santana, all she wants to do is get back at the popular kids for making her life hell ever since she fell out of the popular crowd. But when Brittany enters stage right, it turns out revenge isn't so sweet or easy.
Spoilers: None
Previous Chapters: Part 1; Part 2; Part 3; Part 4
It was hard to sleep at night when her libido was screaming at her. It didn't help that it was only 6:00 in the afternoon. Santana tossed and turned, trying to fall into a sweet, sweet slumber but it was no use. She slipped her hand down her boxer shorts and tried to relieve some stress. She imagined that her fingers were not hers, but Brittany's. She thrust two fingers inside herself and arched her back, curling hard. With her other hand she stroked her clit, thinking about those long, slender, pale digits. But it was no use. No matter how deeply she went into her imagination, she couldn't quite pretend that her fingers curling against her g-spot were Brittany's. With a sigh of frustration, she sat up and decided the next best thing after sex was running. While she ran, she couldn't get what Brittany said out of her head. It had been a day since they last spoke. It wasn't anything unusual, they sometimes went days without speaking to each other or even seeing each other outside of class. But Santana felt uneasy after Brittany's admonition.
Today, she didn't go her usual route. For some odd reason, she felt the urge to jog by the high school. She'd forgotten an important book anyway so she took that path. As she ran by, she noticed the gym door propped open with a trashcan and the lights inside were on. Music (was that Coldplay?) streamed out of the room. There could be no way that someone was still practicing. It couldn't be any of the teams, the bus had long since gone. She wondered if Sue Sylvester had finally snapped and decided the Cheerios needed to practice from dawn til dusk and tiptoed over. When she looked in, she gasped.
Brittany was dancing in the middle of the gym, in red sweatpants and a white t-shirt. She had an intense look of concentration on her face. Her body flowed with the music, her hips swayed and her back arched nimbly. She closed her eyes and twirled, her arms spinning majestically. Sweat dripped from her forehead and down her chin, down her neck and disappeared under the shirt. Santana watched, transfixed. Brittany looked so natural dancing...so...otherworldly. Her hair cascaded down her shoulders and bounced every time Brittany jerked her head one way. Santana got so caught up in dancing that she forgot she was leaning on the only thing propping the door open. The trashcan slipped forward and Santana stumbled in, the door slamming shut behind her loudly. Brittany snapped to attention and looked over. Her eyes widened when she saw Santana picking herself up awkwardly.
"Sorry." Santana said, stepping forward. Brittany let her arms drop, her chest heaving from exertion. "I was just jogging by..."
"You do that a lot." Brittany said, referring to the previous time Santana used that excuse.
"I'm not stalking you." Santana defended.
"I never said you were." Brittany replied hesitantly. Santana mentally slapped herself for saying that. Great, she thought, now she thinks I'm a psychopath and a lame reject.
"You look good dancing." Santana said. Brittany nodded in acknowledgment but she said nothing, her gaze fixed apathetically at the other girl. Santana fidgeted nervously and Brittany kept staring.
"Anything else? Because I'd really like to practice this routine before I go home." Brittany replied. Santana winced at the request, knowing Brittany didn't really want her there. But she had to try anyway, it wasn't like Santana to give up.
"Can I watch?" She asked tentatively.
"I don't know." Brittany said calmly.
"Stage fright?" Santana joked but there was no reciprocating laughter or smile and she fell silent. She looked down at her shoes, feeling for awkward again in front of the blond. She seemed to have that effect on her, she had the ability to turn Santana into someone resembling an awkward teenage boy just learning to talk to girls. It was not something Santana was proud of. But this time it wasn't because Brittany was pressing her up against the wall or leaning in too close to her neck, this time it was because Brittany simply didn't care about her existence. Santana missed the former Brittany.
"I'm sorry." She blurted before stopping in surprise. Brittany raised her eyebrows, showing that she had similar sentiments. Santana wasn't used to apologizing to anyone, much less a Cheerio but she found the apology coming out of her mouth much easier than she initially thought. "I'm sorry that I had such a stick up my ass, ok? I'm just not used to people seeing this other side of me. I look silly."
"I don't think you looked silly." Brittany said quietly.
"Most people would have."
"I'm not them." It was true. Brittany was most definitely not like anyone Santana had ever met. Brittany was popular, nice and irresistible. She made Santana want to come out of her aloof shell and maybe that's what terrified her.
"I need to get used to that." Santana admitted. "But I'm sorry, ok? You're one of the few cool people that I know who don't want to slushie me every day that ends in 'y'." Brittany looked down.
"Ok." She said softly. "You're forgiven." She glanced back up, a smile playing on her lips. "But you have to rap for me, ok?" Santana let out a laugh though more in relief than anything else. Brittany broke into a wide grin and stepped closer. "I'm serious! Rap! It was kind of the most amazing thing I've ever seen."
"Only if you teach me some of your moves." Santana chuckled. Brittany's eyes flashed dangerously and she came within inches of Santana and the brunette found herself in a familiar position. Heat traveled directly south. Goddamn teenage libido.
Brittany grabbed her hips and ground her thigh lightly against Santana's core. Santana's eyes widened.
"Dance moves..." She squeaked. Brittany raised her eyebrow suggestively.
"What did you think I was going to do?" She asked, pulling her hands away. "Come on, I'll teach you a thing or to." She stretched her arms above her head, the muscles in her back rippling. She made a come hither motion that made Santana want to pounce her immediately. Santana huffed and shook her head, smiling as the blond turned on the music again.
The dance lesson was both the most informative and infuriating experience of Santana's life. Brittany liked to be very "hands on" when she taught, correcting Santana's stance by pressing her body firmly against the brunette's to show her just how her arms should be positioned. One time she came up from behind Santana and wrapped her arms around her and her hands traveled down to Santana's inner thigh and Santana bucked very lightly against the touch. But Brittany instead ran her fingers down her leg, pulling gently.
"Your legs have to be further apart..." She purred into Santana's ear and Santana blushed.
"You're doing this on purpose." She muttered.
"What?"
"Nothing!" Santana replied. Brittany smirked and ran her hands back up her thigh, up her hip and it lightly brushed the skin under Santana's shirt, causing her to gasp.
"Out of breath already?" Brittany teased. Santana grumbled and tried again. Brittany's lips were practically on Santana's ear when she whispered,
"Better...your position is much, much better. It leaves you...open..." Santana turned around, forgetting all about dancing or instructing and was determined to show Brittany what she could do.
"Open for what?" She grabbed the pockets on Brittany's sweat pants and pulled her close. Their noses touched and this time, Brittany made no move to pull away.
"Open...just...open to change..." Brittany whispered, her eyes glittering. Santana let out a relieved breath.
"Fuck finally." She whispered, bringing her lips closer to Brittany's. "You've wanted me forever, it's about fucking time." Immediately the mood changed. Brittany's eyes darkened and she violently pushed Santana away and stormed over to her backpack. Santana stumbled a little from the force of the push and she looked at Brittany furiously.
"What's your problem?" She demanded. "I'm sick and tired of this game that we're playing. I know you fucking want me!"
"Not anymore." Brittany snapped.
"Why? Why the hell are you doing this? You're...you're such a girl! I hate this, come here, go away crap you're pulling."
"Oh, I'm the one to blame?" Brittany demanded. "Get over yourself, Lopez. Grow up. You said you were sorry for not letting me in but you're still pulling that crap. Yeah, ok, I'll admit it, I wanted you. But screw that if you're going to act so high and mighty."
"What the hell are you talking about?" Santana demanded. Brittany walked by her, shooting her a dirty look.
"Figure it out yourself, then come see me." She stormed out of the gym, slamming the door behind her. Santana let out a cry of anger and kicked at the ground.
~****************~
After that incident, Brittany ignored Santana again. Except this time, it was colder. Santana tried to apologize several times but unlike the night in the gym, Brittany just brushed her off. Santana gave up and tried to return to normal, tried to write Brittany off in her mind. But every time she saw the dancer and watched her smile that beautiful, brilliant smile of hers, the pit of her stomach hurt. She felt something in the back of her throat burn when she saw Noah Puckerman drape his arm around her like they were an item or something. She wanted to shove his face into the Thursday lunch special and hope he drowned in it.
It started affecting her studies, her attention span and glee practice. Her mood grew even more vicious than usual and the glee members soon learned to leave her in the corner. She tried singing, that usually helped but every song came out flat. Even sex with Quinn just made Santana angrier and she stopped going over Quinn's house every day.
"Maybe someone died." Artie suggested quietly as the group discussed why Santana looked like she wanted to murder someone every second of the day. Rachel was still picking pieces of garbage out of her hair after Santana shoved her head first into the dumpster when the short brunette demanded to know why she was singing like an American Idol reject. Quinn knew why, or at least suspected the reason and she simply rolled her eyes at any other speculation.
"Maybe she's been getting bullied more." Tina offered. They went quiet when Santana walked back in, flopping down in a chair.
"What's wrong with you?" Mercedes demanded. "Did someone spit in your lunch?" Santana ignored her and silently fumed, trying to forget about the blond dancer that haunted her every thought.
"Oh, so I get a dumpster dive when I correctly point out your flaws and Mercedes only gets the silent treatment?" Rachel asked.
"You're tinier." Santana snapped.
For the rest of practice, Santana sang half-heartedly. The others did their best tot ry and ignore the fact that Santana was being a grade "A" space case but for Rachel it was difficult since Santana was singing flat every other note. After practice, she stormed over to where Santana was gathering her stuff from the floor.
"I understand that maybe personal problems are affecting your vocal ability but I would like to point out that you ar epart of a team and if you're not pulling your weight, everyone suffers." She said.
"Want to get trashed again?" Santana snarled in a way that would've made even the biggest hockey players back off.
"Look, I've had extensive experience with therapists so I think I've got a good idea of what may be bothering you." Santana laughed.
"Really?" She sneered. "Ok, try me."
"You're finally coming to terms with the fact that you're no longer popular. You've clearly been in denial this whole time about losing your status by going about your business being your general cranky self. You've dismissed getting slushied and made fun of because you believe they are still beneath you but something recently has made you realize that you're not the 'badass' that you thought you were." Rachel analyzed. Santana's eyebrows went up.
"Wow, you are totally out of your mind." She replied. But then she thought about Rachel's words a little. Maybe it wasn't completely bullshit. She wondered if being head cheerleader would've made Brittany more accepting of her advances. She shook her head. Brittany wasn't the type of person to let status affect her judgment of people.
"Well, it was either that or you're having relationship problems." Rachel said, shrugging.
"You're a girl." Santana said.
"Very observant." Rachel replied, rolling her eyes.
"Shut up." Santana said. "Look...fuck, I can't believe I'm asking you." Rachel tilted her head, interested now in what Santana had to say.
"Go on, I promise I'm just as good a listener as I am a speaker." She said, putting her hand on her heart.
"Whatever. If any of this gets out, I'm going to make sure you smell like cafeteria leftovers for the rest of the year, got it?" Santana threatened. Rachel nodded enthusiastically. "Ok, so there's this girl..."
"Quinn?"
"Shut up, I thought you were listening. That means no talking." Santana ordered. Rachel nodded again and pressed her lips together. "Ok, so there's this girl. Not Quinn. And...and I know she wants me but she won't give herself up to me. I've tried every trick I know to get into her pants and she keeps pushing me away. So then one day I get like...a second away from kissing this girl and she pushes me away and tells me some bullshit about acting high and mighty and 'wanting to see the real me.'" Santana explained. Rachel nodded. "I don't get it. If she likes me, why doesn't she just go for it?"
"Well...can I speak now?" Rachel asked.
"Nothing's ever stopped you before." Santana said sarcastically.
"So...this girl likes you."
"I don't know about like. She wants me, definitely."
"Ok, so this girl wants you. And you said she wants to see the real you?" Rachel put her finger to her lips in thought. "That...that definitely sounds like she likes you."
"Ok, so she likes me. Whatever. Why won't she fucking let me kiss her then?" Santana demanded, feeling frustrated just thinking about it.
"Do you like her?"
"Fuck, why does everyone keep asking me that?! I do not like her!" Santana almost yelled. Rachel went quiet for a moment from the intensity. "Sorry." Santana mumbled.
"Well, maybe that's why she won't kiss you or want anything to do with you? If she likes you and she knows that you don't like her, why would she put herself in that situation?" Rachel asked before her phone rang. Santana sat in stunned silence. Man-hands was right and it all made sense. Rachel answered her phone, said "yes" a few times and hung up.
"I gotta go, Santana, but good luck!" She said, awkwardly patting her on the shoulder. Santana didn't say anything. She simply sat there, wide eyed at the revelation. When she finally snapped out of, it, she cursed and picked up her backpack, realizing she had missed the bus and had to walk home.
~****************~
As she trudged home, clouds loomed threateningly over her head but she didn't notice. She was too intent on what Rachel had said earlier. Brittany liked her and she wasn't going to go near Santana because Santana didn't do that "liking" thing. Santana frowned and thought about it some more but the more she thought about the dancer actually having something more than a physical attraction towards her, the more her chest constricted. She sat down on a bench, finding it hard to breathe. The image of the two of them holding hands, kissing in public, and Santana waking up next to Brittany in the morning flashed through her head and she doubled over when her heart skipped a beat.
Fuck! She thought. Fuck...what is this? More images flashed through her head, specifically one of Brittany whispering into her ear, "I like you."
And suddenly Santana imagined herself whispering those same words back.
It was as if the world fell apart around her. Santana froze, the blood completely draining out of her face. Her mouth hung open.
She...She...
She liked Brittany.
Her thoughts were interrupted when a loud boom sounded above her head and rain came down in torrents. Santana shrieked and bolted down the sidewalk. She ran for the nearest cover and tried to wipe the rain off of her face. She looked around, trying to find more cover when she realized that she was standing under a tree right next to Brittany's house. Her breathing quickened and she looked up at the balcony. Brittany wasn't there, of course, but there was a good chance she was inside.
Santana licked her lips. Quinn had been right, goddamn it. She liked Brittany and she was too stubborn to admit it. And that's why Brittany got so pissed off. Fear flooded her body along with this new found feeling. She was terrified of liking someone. Liking was a weakness that she couldn't afford to show. Furthermore, liking a Cheerio? That was liking the enemy. Her friends wouldn't speak to her if they found out. They'd accuse her of trying to climb back up the social ladder. And Brittany...Brittany would be ostracized if Tiffany or any of the other cheer bitches found out.
But looking up and knowing that Brittany was just behind those glass doors made Santana discard those thoughts. Throwing caution to the wind, she walked back into the rain. She looked around and picked up some small pieces of gravel from the nearby rock garden and threw them. She realized how stupid she must look; throwing rocks at the window like some love sick suitor.
Well, that's what I am, isn't it? She thought. After about five times, a figure moved into sight and opened the door. Santana's heard raced when she saw familiar blond hair. Brittany walked out onto the balcony and looked down. Her eyes widened when she saw Santana standing there, completely drenched.
"I didn't jog here this time." Santana said with a forced smile that masked nervousness. "I came here to see you."
"What are you doing?!" Brittany demanded.
"Can I come up?" Santana asked. When Brittany remained silent, Santana decided that just waiting around for rejection was not something she did. She made quick work of climbing up the trellis like she did before and soon, she was standing a few feet away.
"What are you doing?" Brittany repeated.
"Enjoying the weather." Santana joked, blinking away the rain droplets. When Brittany didn't respond, her shoulders sagged.
"Look." Santana said. "You..." She sighed, trying to think of the words. She threw up her hands in defeat. "Look, you do things to me that I've never felt before. It...it's not the most pleasant of feelings. I can't get you out of my mind. I can't stop thinking about you and not just having sex with you. I think about how beautiful you look when you dance and it kills me that you're not talking to me." Brittany looked at her in shock, her umbrella tilting to one side.
"What?" She breathed, hardly believing her ears.
"I said it, ok? I know you want me. But I've never told you how much I wanted you too." Santana sighed. "And I feel like such an idiot sometimes. But mostly, I feel kinda scared. You're the only person I've ever shown more than the bitchy side of me to. Even Quinn...even she hasn't seen me like this. I told you, you do things to me that terrify me. I don't..." Santana didn't have time to finish. Brittany dropped her umbrella and in two steps, made it across the balcony over to Santana. She cupped both sides of Santana's face and kissed her, soft and unsure at first but when Santana reached up and put her hands on Brittany's hips, urging her closer, she deepened it. Her tongue brushed across the blond's, coaxing bolder kisses out of her with every passing stroke. She felt Brittany's nails digging lightly into her jaw and she responded by gripping her hips tighter. By the end of it, they were kissing each other feverishly trying almost to devour each other, bumping teeth against lips and teeth against teeth. It was as if this was the last thing either of them was ever going to do. When they finally broke apart after what felt like minutes, Brittany looked deep into Santana's eyes with her half hooded blue ones.
"Finally..."
Part 6
Pairing: Santana/Brittany
Rating: R (for this chapter)
Summary: AU. Based on Romeo and Juliet. For Santana, all she wants to do is get back at the popular kids for making her life hell ever since she fell out of the popular crowd. But when Brittany enters stage right, it turns out revenge isn't so sweet or easy.
Spoilers: None
Previous Chapters: Part 1; Part 2; Part 3; Part 4
It was hard to sleep at night when her libido was screaming at her. It didn't help that it was only 6:00 in the afternoon. Santana tossed and turned, trying to fall into a sweet, sweet slumber but it was no use. She slipped her hand down her boxer shorts and tried to relieve some stress. She imagined that her fingers were not hers, but Brittany's. She thrust two fingers inside herself and arched her back, curling hard. With her other hand she stroked her clit, thinking about those long, slender, pale digits. But it was no use. No matter how deeply she went into her imagination, she couldn't quite pretend that her fingers curling against her g-spot were Brittany's. With a sigh of frustration, she sat up and decided the next best thing after sex was running. While she ran, she couldn't get what Brittany said out of her head. It had been a day since they last spoke. It wasn't anything unusual, they sometimes went days without speaking to each other or even seeing each other outside of class. But Santana felt uneasy after Brittany's admonition.
Today, she didn't go her usual route. For some odd reason, she felt the urge to jog by the high school. She'd forgotten an important book anyway so she took that path. As she ran by, she noticed the gym door propped open with a trashcan and the lights inside were on. Music (was that Coldplay?) streamed out of the room. There could be no way that someone was still practicing. It couldn't be any of the teams, the bus had long since gone. She wondered if Sue Sylvester had finally snapped and decided the Cheerios needed to practice from dawn til dusk and tiptoed over. When she looked in, she gasped.
Brittany was dancing in the middle of the gym, in red sweatpants and a white t-shirt. She had an intense look of concentration on her face. Her body flowed with the music, her hips swayed and her back arched nimbly. She closed her eyes and twirled, her arms spinning majestically. Sweat dripped from her forehead and down her chin, down her neck and disappeared under the shirt. Santana watched, transfixed. Brittany looked so natural dancing...so...otherworldly. Her hair cascaded down her shoulders and bounced every time Brittany jerked her head one way. Santana got so caught up in dancing that she forgot she was leaning on the only thing propping the door open. The trashcan slipped forward and Santana stumbled in, the door slamming shut behind her loudly. Brittany snapped to attention and looked over. Her eyes widened when she saw Santana picking herself up awkwardly.
"Sorry." Santana said, stepping forward. Brittany let her arms drop, her chest heaving from exertion. "I was just jogging by..."
"You do that a lot." Brittany said, referring to the previous time Santana used that excuse.
"I'm not stalking you." Santana defended.
"I never said you were." Brittany replied hesitantly. Santana mentally slapped herself for saying that. Great, she thought, now she thinks I'm a psychopath and a lame reject.
"You look good dancing." Santana said. Brittany nodded in acknowledgment but she said nothing, her gaze fixed apathetically at the other girl. Santana fidgeted nervously and Brittany kept staring.
"Anything else? Because I'd really like to practice this routine before I go home." Brittany replied. Santana winced at the request, knowing Brittany didn't really want her there. But she had to try anyway, it wasn't like Santana to give up.
"Can I watch?" She asked tentatively.
"I don't know." Brittany said calmly.
"Stage fright?" Santana joked but there was no reciprocating laughter or smile and she fell silent. She looked down at her shoes, feeling for awkward again in front of the blond. She seemed to have that effect on her, she had the ability to turn Santana into someone resembling an awkward teenage boy just learning to talk to girls. It was not something Santana was proud of. But this time it wasn't because Brittany was pressing her up against the wall or leaning in too close to her neck, this time it was because Brittany simply didn't care about her existence. Santana missed the former Brittany.
"I'm sorry." She blurted before stopping in surprise. Brittany raised her eyebrows, showing that she had similar sentiments. Santana wasn't used to apologizing to anyone, much less a Cheerio but she found the apology coming out of her mouth much easier than she initially thought. "I'm sorry that I had such a stick up my ass, ok? I'm just not used to people seeing this other side of me. I look silly."
"I don't think you looked silly." Brittany said quietly.
"Most people would have."
"I'm not them." It was true. Brittany was most definitely not like anyone Santana had ever met. Brittany was popular, nice and irresistible. She made Santana want to come out of her aloof shell and maybe that's what terrified her.
"I need to get used to that." Santana admitted. "But I'm sorry, ok? You're one of the few cool people that I know who don't want to slushie me every day that ends in 'y'." Brittany looked down.
"Ok." She said softly. "You're forgiven." She glanced back up, a smile playing on her lips. "But you have to rap for me, ok?" Santana let out a laugh though more in relief than anything else. Brittany broke into a wide grin and stepped closer. "I'm serious! Rap! It was kind of the most amazing thing I've ever seen."
"Only if you teach me some of your moves." Santana chuckled. Brittany's eyes flashed dangerously and she came within inches of Santana and the brunette found herself in a familiar position. Heat traveled directly south. Goddamn teenage libido.
Brittany grabbed her hips and ground her thigh lightly against Santana's core. Santana's eyes widened.
"Dance moves..." She squeaked. Brittany raised her eyebrow suggestively.
"What did you think I was going to do?" She asked, pulling her hands away. "Come on, I'll teach you a thing or to." She stretched her arms above her head, the muscles in her back rippling. She made a come hither motion that made Santana want to pounce her immediately. Santana huffed and shook her head, smiling as the blond turned on the music again.
The dance lesson was both the most informative and infuriating experience of Santana's life. Brittany liked to be very "hands on" when she taught, correcting Santana's stance by pressing her body firmly against the brunette's to show her just how her arms should be positioned. One time she came up from behind Santana and wrapped her arms around her and her hands traveled down to Santana's inner thigh and Santana bucked very lightly against the touch. But Brittany instead ran her fingers down her leg, pulling gently.
"Your legs have to be further apart..." She purred into Santana's ear and Santana blushed.
"You're doing this on purpose." She muttered.
"What?"
"Nothing!" Santana replied. Brittany smirked and ran her hands back up her thigh, up her hip and it lightly brushed the skin under Santana's shirt, causing her to gasp.
"Out of breath already?" Brittany teased. Santana grumbled and tried again. Brittany's lips were practically on Santana's ear when she whispered,
"Better...your position is much, much better. It leaves you...open..." Santana turned around, forgetting all about dancing or instructing and was determined to show Brittany what she could do.
"Open for what?" She grabbed the pockets on Brittany's sweat pants and pulled her close. Their noses touched and this time, Brittany made no move to pull away.
"Open...just...open to change..." Brittany whispered, her eyes glittering. Santana let out a relieved breath.
"Fuck finally." She whispered, bringing her lips closer to Brittany's. "You've wanted me forever, it's about fucking time." Immediately the mood changed. Brittany's eyes darkened and she violently pushed Santana away and stormed over to her backpack. Santana stumbled a little from the force of the push and she looked at Brittany furiously.
"What's your problem?" She demanded. "I'm sick and tired of this game that we're playing. I know you fucking want me!"
"Not anymore." Brittany snapped.
"Why? Why the hell are you doing this? You're...you're such a girl! I hate this, come here, go away crap you're pulling."
"Oh, I'm the one to blame?" Brittany demanded. "Get over yourself, Lopez. Grow up. You said you were sorry for not letting me in but you're still pulling that crap. Yeah, ok, I'll admit it, I wanted you. But screw that if you're going to act so high and mighty."
"What the hell are you talking about?" Santana demanded. Brittany walked by her, shooting her a dirty look.
"Figure it out yourself, then come see me." She stormed out of the gym, slamming the door behind her. Santana let out a cry of anger and kicked at the ground.
~****************~
After that incident, Brittany ignored Santana again. Except this time, it was colder. Santana tried to apologize several times but unlike the night in the gym, Brittany just brushed her off. Santana gave up and tried to return to normal, tried to write Brittany off in her mind. But every time she saw the dancer and watched her smile that beautiful, brilliant smile of hers, the pit of her stomach hurt. She felt something in the back of her throat burn when she saw Noah Puckerman drape his arm around her like they were an item or something. She wanted to shove his face into the Thursday lunch special and hope he drowned in it.
It started affecting her studies, her attention span and glee practice. Her mood grew even more vicious than usual and the glee members soon learned to leave her in the corner. She tried singing, that usually helped but every song came out flat. Even sex with Quinn just made Santana angrier and she stopped going over Quinn's house every day.
"Maybe someone died." Artie suggested quietly as the group discussed why Santana looked like she wanted to murder someone every second of the day. Rachel was still picking pieces of garbage out of her hair after Santana shoved her head first into the dumpster when the short brunette demanded to know why she was singing like an American Idol reject. Quinn knew why, or at least suspected the reason and she simply rolled her eyes at any other speculation.
"Maybe she's been getting bullied more." Tina offered. They went quiet when Santana walked back in, flopping down in a chair.
"What's wrong with you?" Mercedes demanded. "Did someone spit in your lunch?" Santana ignored her and silently fumed, trying to forget about the blond dancer that haunted her every thought.
"Oh, so I get a dumpster dive when I correctly point out your flaws and Mercedes only gets the silent treatment?" Rachel asked.
"You're tinier." Santana snapped.
For the rest of practice, Santana sang half-heartedly. The others did their best tot ry and ignore the fact that Santana was being a grade "A" space case but for Rachel it was difficult since Santana was singing flat every other note. After practice, she stormed over to where Santana was gathering her stuff from the floor.
"I understand that maybe personal problems are affecting your vocal ability but I would like to point out that you ar epart of a team and if you're not pulling your weight, everyone suffers." She said.
"Want to get trashed again?" Santana snarled in a way that would've made even the biggest hockey players back off.
"Look, I've had extensive experience with therapists so I think I've got a good idea of what may be bothering you." Santana laughed.
"Really?" She sneered. "Ok, try me."
"You're finally coming to terms with the fact that you're no longer popular. You've clearly been in denial this whole time about losing your status by going about your business being your general cranky self. You've dismissed getting slushied and made fun of because you believe they are still beneath you but something recently has made you realize that you're not the 'badass' that you thought you were." Rachel analyzed. Santana's eyebrows went up.
"Wow, you are totally out of your mind." She replied. But then she thought about Rachel's words a little. Maybe it wasn't completely bullshit. She wondered if being head cheerleader would've made Brittany more accepting of her advances. She shook her head. Brittany wasn't the type of person to let status affect her judgment of people.
"Well, it was either that or you're having relationship problems." Rachel said, shrugging.
"You're a girl." Santana said.
"Very observant." Rachel replied, rolling her eyes.
"Shut up." Santana said. "Look...fuck, I can't believe I'm asking you." Rachel tilted her head, interested now in what Santana had to say.
"Go on, I promise I'm just as good a listener as I am a speaker." She said, putting her hand on her heart.
"Whatever. If any of this gets out, I'm going to make sure you smell like cafeteria leftovers for the rest of the year, got it?" Santana threatened. Rachel nodded enthusiastically. "Ok, so there's this girl..."
"Quinn?"
"Shut up, I thought you were listening. That means no talking." Santana ordered. Rachel nodded again and pressed her lips together. "Ok, so there's this girl. Not Quinn. And...and I know she wants me but she won't give herself up to me. I've tried every trick I know to get into her pants and she keeps pushing me away. So then one day I get like...a second away from kissing this girl and she pushes me away and tells me some bullshit about acting high and mighty and 'wanting to see the real me.'" Santana explained. Rachel nodded. "I don't get it. If she likes me, why doesn't she just go for it?"
"Well...can I speak now?" Rachel asked.
"Nothing's ever stopped you before." Santana said sarcastically.
"So...this girl likes you."
"I don't know about like. She wants me, definitely."
"Ok, so this girl wants you. And you said she wants to see the real you?" Rachel put her finger to her lips in thought. "That...that definitely sounds like she likes you."
"Ok, so she likes me. Whatever. Why won't she fucking let me kiss her then?" Santana demanded, feeling frustrated just thinking about it.
"Do you like her?"
"Fuck, why does everyone keep asking me that?! I do not like her!" Santana almost yelled. Rachel went quiet for a moment from the intensity. "Sorry." Santana mumbled.
"Well, maybe that's why she won't kiss you or want anything to do with you? If she likes you and she knows that you don't like her, why would she put herself in that situation?" Rachel asked before her phone rang. Santana sat in stunned silence. Man-hands was right and it all made sense. Rachel answered her phone, said "yes" a few times and hung up.
"I gotta go, Santana, but good luck!" She said, awkwardly patting her on the shoulder. Santana didn't say anything. She simply sat there, wide eyed at the revelation. When she finally snapped out of, it, she cursed and picked up her backpack, realizing she had missed the bus and had to walk home.
~****************~
As she trudged home, clouds loomed threateningly over her head but she didn't notice. She was too intent on what Rachel had said earlier. Brittany liked her and she wasn't going to go near Santana because Santana didn't do that "liking" thing. Santana frowned and thought about it some more but the more she thought about the dancer actually having something more than a physical attraction towards her, the more her chest constricted. She sat down on a bench, finding it hard to breathe. The image of the two of them holding hands, kissing in public, and Santana waking up next to Brittany in the morning flashed through her head and she doubled over when her heart skipped a beat.
Fuck! She thought. Fuck...what is this? More images flashed through her head, specifically one of Brittany whispering into her ear, "I like you."
And suddenly Santana imagined herself whispering those same words back.
It was as if the world fell apart around her. Santana froze, the blood completely draining out of her face. Her mouth hung open.
She...She...
She liked Brittany.
Her thoughts were interrupted when a loud boom sounded above her head and rain came down in torrents. Santana shrieked and bolted down the sidewalk. She ran for the nearest cover and tried to wipe the rain off of her face. She looked around, trying to find more cover when she realized that she was standing under a tree right next to Brittany's house. Her breathing quickened and she looked up at the balcony. Brittany wasn't there, of course, but there was a good chance she was inside.
Santana licked her lips. Quinn had been right, goddamn it. She liked Brittany and she was too stubborn to admit it. And that's why Brittany got so pissed off. Fear flooded her body along with this new found feeling. She was terrified of liking someone. Liking was a weakness that she couldn't afford to show. Furthermore, liking a Cheerio? That was liking the enemy. Her friends wouldn't speak to her if they found out. They'd accuse her of trying to climb back up the social ladder. And Brittany...Brittany would be ostracized if Tiffany or any of the other cheer bitches found out.
But looking up and knowing that Brittany was just behind those glass doors made Santana discard those thoughts. Throwing caution to the wind, she walked back into the rain. She looked around and picked up some small pieces of gravel from the nearby rock garden and threw them. She realized how stupid she must look; throwing rocks at the window like some love sick suitor.
Well, that's what I am, isn't it? She thought. After about five times, a figure moved into sight and opened the door. Santana's heard raced when she saw familiar blond hair. Brittany walked out onto the balcony and looked down. Her eyes widened when she saw Santana standing there, completely drenched.
"I didn't jog here this time." Santana said with a forced smile that masked nervousness. "I came here to see you."
"What are you doing?!" Brittany demanded.
"Can I come up?" Santana asked. When Brittany remained silent, Santana decided that just waiting around for rejection was not something she did. She made quick work of climbing up the trellis like she did before and soon, she was standing a few feet away.
"What are you doing?" Brittany repeated.
"Enjoying the weather." Santana joked, blinking away the rain droplets. When Brittany didn't respond, her shoulders sagged.
"Look." Santana said. "You..." She sighed, trying to think of the words. She threw up her hands in defeat. "Look, you do things to me that I've never felt before. It...it's not the most pleasant of feelings. I can't get you out of my mind. I can't stop thinking about you and not just having sex with you. I think about how beautiful you look when you dance and it kills me that you're not talking to me." Brittany looked at her in shock, her umbrella tilting to one side.
"What?" She breathed, hardly believing her ears.
"I said it, ok? I know you want me. But I've never told you how much I wanted you too." Santana sighed. "And I feel like such an idiot sometimes. But mostly, I feel kinda scared. You're the only person I've ever shown more than the bitchy side of me to. Even Quinn...even she hasn't seen me like this. I told you, you do things to me that terrify me. I don't..." Santana didn't have time to finish. Brittany dropped her umbrella and in two steps, made it across the balcony over to Santana. She cupped both sides of Santana's face and kissed her, soft and unsure at first but when Santana reached up and put her hands on Brittany's hips, urging her closer, she deepened it. Her tongue brushed across the blond's, coaxing bolder kisses out of her with every passing stroke. She felt Brittany's nails digging lightly into her jaw and she responded by gripping her hips tighter. By the end of it, they were kissing each other feverishly trying almost to devour each other, bumping teeth against lips and teeth against teeth. It was as if this was the last thing either of them was ever going to do. When they finally broke apart after what felt like minutes, Brittany looked deep into Santana's eyes with her half hooded blue ones.
"Finally..."
Part 6